


Fallen-Angel: The Other White Meat

by mihomi98



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Destiel is canon, F/F, F/M, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihomi98/pseuds/mihomi98
Summary: Dean just wanted Castiel's first Thanksgiving as a human to go perfectly. Of course, Castiel has other plans.Post 15.20.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Donna Hanscum/Jody Mills, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Fallen-Angel: The Other White Meat

“Shit, Dean, did you _really_ have to get a twenty-pound turkey?!”

Dean glanced up at his brother and rolled his eyes before snapping his glove. “Shut it, bitch,” he said, grabbing a handful of stuffing and shoving it into the bird. “It’s Cass’ first Thanksgiving since he came back, man. He needs _all_ the leftovers.”

Sam huffed and shook his hair out of his eyes. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows before settling his face in Bitchface #23. “Fine. I’m calling Jody and the girls, then. We don’t need Cass or Jack eating themselves into food-comas. Eileen is already planning on sleeping all day tomorrow; we don’t need any more bodies piling up.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “Already called them. Claire is bringing apple pie. Besides, if they want to sleep, fine. God and an angel--they deserve all the rest they can get.” He grabbed another handful of stuffing before nodding at the stove. “Stir the carrots, would ya?”

“Fine, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam pushed himself away from the counter and went over to the stove, grabbing a spoon out of one of the drawers and following his brother’s instructions. “Where is Cass, anyway? I haven’t seen him all day.”

Dean shrugged, his jaw tensing. “Don’t know.”

Sam gave Dean Bitchface #98. “Seriously, Dean? Again?”

Dean didn’t answer, letting out an irritated breath through his nose. “I’m not his keeper, Sammy. Dude can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants.” He pushed the last handful of bread in and straightened up, taking off the glove. “He knows dinner is at eight. He’ll be here.”

Dean ignored the way Sam’s brows furrowed at him as he grabbed the spices he needed for the turkey skin. Cass _would_ be there. He knew that Dean was excited to have Jack home again, and it was _he_ who invited Jody and the girls. He wouldn’t miss dinner just because things because Dean and he were . . . uncomfortable, to say the least.

After Chuck had been defeated and Jack returned everyone back to Earth, Dean had gone through six weeks of heartache and depression when he realized that just because Jack was the new God, that didn’t mean he had control over what the Empty did or did not do. It wasn’t until she (he? It?) decided that she had enough of Castiel’s constant wake-sleep rotation and slung him back down to Earth in anger. She kept his grace as punishment, giving Jack only a moment of notice before bouncing the fallen angel off the ground.

Jack had, unsurprisingly, called Dean, and while he offered to fix Castiel’s broken shoulder and sprained wrist, Castiel had shook his head and decided to stick it out until he saw Dean and Sam. He was delirious with pain, and in his addled-mind, he was convinced that accepting the help of any supernatural being, even if it _was_ his son, would send him away again.

Castiel passed out from the pain only a few minutes before Dean got to him, so Jack ignored his father’s wishes and healed him of all his wounds. He helped Dean load Cass into the back of Baby and, once they got back to the bunker, made sure that Castiel was tucked squarely into bed. He woke up two days later and apologized profusely for leaving again . . . which was, you know, _great_ until he got sick of being in the bunker, and took off less than a week later.

Sure, he came back after a day or so, but Dean was _terrified_. He had just gotten Cass back, and sure, he hadn’t told him how he felt about him, or responded to anything that Cass had said _before_ the Empty took him, but he was getting around to it. He wanted Cass to adjust to being human again before reminding him just exactly who was responsible for him losing his grace for good.

While Cass disappearing became a bi-weekly occurance. Dean just wished that it wouldn’t happen on _Thanksgiving,_ of all days. Dean’s favorite holiday, for Jack’s sake. He wouldn’t miss it.

Sam put the lid back on the carrots and rolled his eyes again before walking out of the room. Dean watched him leave before letting his shoulders drop, his heart sinking. Cass would be back before dinner. He had to be.

***

Dean sat down on the Baby’s hood and crossed his forearms over his knees, letting out a loud sigh and looking down at the ground. He lifted a hand and pressed it against the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and squeezing in an effort to keep the stinging in his eyes at bay.

“Sorry Cass is a dick.”

Dean looked up to see Claire standing next to the Impala, an arm crossed over her stomach and a cigarette between her fingers. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her pack of cigarettes, handing one to Dean.

Dean took the cigarette from her, nodding his thanks when she held out her lighter. “These things will kill you, you know,” he said, taking a drag and dropping his feet to the ground. He scooted over so that Claire had room to lean next to him.

“Not like much else is going to these days, what with hunting being basically obsolete and all. Kaia wants me to stop, though--can’t stand the way that I smell when I smoke inside.”

“Guess you better stop, then.”

Claire shrugged. “I’m outside. It’s fine.” She looked around at the trees surrounding the bunker. “Seriously, though, where’s Cass? Jody promised me that he’d be here. Finally give me a chance to kick his ass for not telling me he was back.” She smirked at Dean, sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth.

“Hell if I know. He fucks off every week or so, then when he comes back, he locks himself in his room and pretends like I don’t exist.” He let out a forced chuckle, shaking his head. He reached behind himself and grabbed his beer from where it was resting against the windshield. “Dude tells me he loves me then wants nothing to do with me when I offer myself up to him on a silver platter. Go figure.”

“You were never on a silver platter, Dean. That would be greatly uncomfortable, especially with how cold the bunker gets. You would feel the cold, even through your jeans.”

Dean choked on his beer and looked past Claire, where he could see Castiel walking toward them, a white plastic bag in his left hand. Claire scoffed and stood up. She walked over to Castiel and stared at him for a moment before throwing her hand out and slapping him across the face, her smirk growing when she saw Castiel’s eyes go wide in shock and the bag fall from his hand. “That’s for not telling me you were back . . . or that you had even died in the first fucking place.”

Castiel reached up and rubbed at his cheek, stepping back. “Well, I, uhm, I--”

“And _this_ because I am so, _so_ glad that you’re back.” She pulled Castiel into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders.

Castiel froze for several seconds before patting her on the back. “I’m, uh, glad that I’m back, too, Claire.” He looked over her shoulder at Dean. “I’m more glad than you know.” He gave Dean a tight smile.

Claire gave him a tight squeeze before she stepped out of the hug, reached down and picking up the plastic bag. She handed it to Castiel before turning back to Dean, kicking her foot out to stub out her cigarette. She shivered as she wind blew. “I’m going to go back inside. See you two in a few minutes?” She looked at Dean before looking back at Castiel,

Castiel didn’t look away from Dean as he nodded. “We will be inside soon.”

He waited until Claire had made her way back into the bunker before walking over to Dean, the wind blowing his trench coat open around his jeans and Metallica tee shirt. “I’m sorry that I’m late.” He looked down at the bag in his hand before holding it out to Dean. “I . . . brought pie. It’s pumpkin.” Dean stared at the bag, but he didn’t take it. Castiel took a step closer and put the bag down next to Dean’s shoes. “Did . . . did dinner turn out all right?”

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. “What are we doing, Cass?”

Castiel tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean? We’re having Thanksgiving with our family.”

“No, _I_ am having Thanksgiving with our family because you, _again_ , decided that you needed to bow out.” He looked over. “I don’t get it, Cass. Before the Empty took you, you told me you love me, then you get back, and its like you want nothing to do with me.” He scoffed. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ve been alone since the night the Empty took you? I thought, when you came back, that--you know what, it doesn’t matter. You made your stance on all of this plenty clear.”

Dean spread his fingers apart and let out a long breath through his nose. “Just . . . come inside when you’re ready, all right? I’m going to go start putting leftovers away. It won’t be as good as it was fresh, but . . . at least you’ll have something to snack on if you get tired in the middle of the night. I made almost a dozen dishes so you can try some of everything.” He took the bag from Castiel. “Thanks for the pie.”

Dean had only taken a few steps when Castiel grabbed his hand. “Dean, wait.”

Dean shook his hand out of Castiel’s grip, but he didn’t move any further away. “Cass, it’s fine. We can forget anything ever happened.” He felt sick to his stomach. “You’re back. That’s all I need, okay? If you need to go somewhere else to find your happiness, that’s fine. I’m just happy knowing you’re alive.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “My . . . _my_ happiness? What are you talking about? Dean, I’m not going away all the time because it makes me ‘happy.’”

“Why do you keep leaving, then? Did I do something? _Am_ I doing something? Because it’s driving me crazy, Cass.”

Castiel shook his head. “Dean, no. Of course not.” He glanced down at Dean’s lips before looking up at his eyes again. “I just didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you.”

Now Dean was the one looking confused. “Why would you being around be uncomfortable? Cass, I love you. I want you here.”

“. . . as a brother.”

“What?”

“You love me . . . like a brother.” Cass sighed. “When I said that I love you, Dean, I meant that I _love_ you. Like Adam loved Eve. Like John loved Mary.”

“I know, Cass. Me, too.”

“Oh.” Cass’s eyes widened. “ _Oh_.” He took a step towards Dean. “In that case, then . . . ”

He raised a trembling hand up to Dean’s shoulder, gripping the spot where his handprint once was softly. “Dean, I . . . can I kiss you?”

Dean’s heart was in his throat. “That depends.”

Castiel glanced down at Dean’s lips again, his voice coming out breathy. “On what?”

“Are there any more deals that are going to take you away from me?”

“No. I promise.” He moved his hand from Dean’s shoulder to cup his neck. He leaned forward slowly, giving Dean plenty of time to move away.

Dean didn’t move away, though, lunging forward as soon as he was positive that Castiel wasn’t going to pull away, and once their lips met, Dean could have sworn that Castiel was an angel again, the sparks in the air burning his eyes.

After several seconds, Castiel pulled away, resting his forehead against Dean’s. “I’m sorry I missed dinner, Dean. I started imagining spending it with you, like this, and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend around our family and our son that I don’t love you.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s okay, Cass. Really.” He leaned down and gave Castiel another soft kiss before stepping back, interlacing their fingers. “Come on. If we hurry, you can get some of Claire’s homemade apple pie before Jack eats all of it.”

“And the turkey? Can I have some of that?”

Dean’s smile grew. “Of course you can. Baby, you can have whatever you want.”

###

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this sucks -- I just needed to get back into writing while I wait for the series to BREAK MY HEART.


End file.
